THE Tudors hold an eternal fascination for a variety of reasons: they were the last of the feudal monarchs, autocratic, cruel and proud, yet by the end of the dynasty, modern Britain was much in evidence with the beginnings of a Parliamentary democracy, an established Protestant church and the first stirrings of the welfare state.

The most fascinating of the Tudors was Henry VIII, that haughty, ill-tempered and lascivious monarch who seemingly divided his time between getting married, divorced and executing a string of his wives, dissolving the monasteries, lusting after the ladies of his court and tossing half-eaten chicken legs over his shoulder.

Some of that picture is true: despite his regal grandeur, Henry was well aware of the flimsiness of the Tudor claim to the throne and was desperate to sire a healthy male heir. Hence the desperate scramble to find women who could provide him with said heir - even if it involved him dismantling the panoply of the Catholic Church in England.

He was cruel and bad-tempered but he suffered greatly in later life from ill-health (bladder problems and ulcerated legs but almost certainly not syphilis, despite the persistent rumours).

And he never threw a chicken leg over his shoulder in his life.

Henry was fastidiously clean by the standards of the time. He introduced running water and flushing toilets to many of his palaces, passed laws to stop gentlemen relieving themselves in the dining rooms and scullery boys urinating in the kitchen fireplaces and forbade everyone from throwing rubbish into the palace moats.

And his fastidious habits were carried into the bedchamber. Despite having six wives and innumerable mistresses Henry was an undoubted prude.

He pursued Anne Boleyn, who played hard to get, with the ardour of a lovesick 15-year-old, but was more than peeved to discover that his new wife, far from being a simpering virgin, was, in fact, well versed in the affairs of love - thanks to her upbringing in the French court.

And he failed miserably to rise to the occasion with Anne of Cleeves because of her dreadful BO.

Alison Weir has a reputation for producing well-researched, well-written histories of the period but she takes on a new mantle with this splendid book - gossip writer.

Miss Weir takes the usual historical documents to lay out the bare bones of the story but then, drawing on the mass of writings left by the highly-literate (for their time) people of England and the despatches and letters of foreign diplomats, provides an insight into life in 16th century England.

The minutiae is fascinating, revealing not only how Henry viewed affairs of state, but what he ate, what he wore, how he decorated his homes and how he spent his money (generally, generously on hopeless causes, meanly on worthy ones).

This is A-Level history meets EastEnders: a wonderful insight into the life and loves of a fascinating king. Outstanding reading for historian and non-historian alike.